Avenging Steel: The First Collection

by Hall, Ian

  I bent my back into it, and to my utter shock, found myself pulling up the German sniper’s rifle from our trip to Ayrshire. I’d forgotten all about it. Suddenly a memory flooded back; staggering up the stairs, one arm over Balfour’s shoulder, the rifle used as a walking stick. I laid it on top of the boxes of old clothes, and went through to the kitchen. Mum and Frances were doing the washing-up, chatting incessantly, nudging each other, sharing jokes. I hated to break up the reverie, but this suddenly couldn’t wait. “Mum, can I see you for a bit?”

  She looked up, mid-sentence. “Sure.” She dried her hands with the tea towel, and followed me from the room. Once in the closet, I had no need to point to the subject of my questions. “Oh,”

  “Oh?” I hissed, trying to keep my volume down from Frances. Thankfully I could hear her whistling, the dishes clattering after being dried. “You never told me…”

  “To be honest, I forgot all about it.” She looked at me, obviously scared, then she looked at me like she’d just committed a major crime. “Well, I more put it to the back of my mind.”

  “Mum…”

  “Wait. There’s more.”

  “What?”

  She pulled a small shoe box from a high shelf. Inside sat the pistol Balfour had given me. I could still smell the cordite from its use that night. I took the box, and waved her away. There was no need to state the obvious; caught with these in our possession would mean certain imprisonment, possibly a firing squad. “Go. I’ll deal with it.”

  Making sure Frances’ bedroom door was firmly closed, I took both guns to my room. I guessed if I was caught before I ‘dealt’ with them, the blame could then be posted directly onto me, not my family.

  Looking around the room, the large dresser was the only item of furniture large enough to hold the rifle, but I could see no way to get the gun inside. “Unless…” I got to my knees, and looked under the large shelf that ran the whole length. I soon worked out if I could get some form of cup hook on the underside, and a couple of bits of wire, I could suspend it under the shelf. If I placed the hangers at the back of the shelf, it would be hidden but from the most careful search.

  To my surprise, I had the rifle up in its cradle in less than half an hour.

  The pistol was an easier job, slipping it under the loose floorboard where I kept my spare cash and false ID cards. I stood up, dusted my hands together. Biggles had turned his room into an arsenal… mind you he didn’t exactly have any bullets.

  “They’ll come later.” I announced to no one, and went back to my search for Capt. W.E. Johns books in the large closet.

  Of course, Alice didn’t return that night. Nor was she at work the next day. “She’ got the flu, poor thing,” I proclaimed to Daphne at the main desk, knowing she’d report it to the right people. At home, I told the story that Alice’s mother needed her help on the farm, apparently two of the farm laborers had vanished.

  When her absence stretched to three days, I began to worry.

  That evening, when mother told me that a knock at the apartment door was a lady, looking for me, my heart was in my mouth.

  Lilith obviously saw my expression. “Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong.” She waved my building tears away with her hands. “I just need to see you.”

  Mum had followed me back to the door. “It’s okay mum, she’s a friend of Alice’s.” I grabbed my coat from the stand. “Let’s go.”

  As I closed the heavy door behind me, mother’s fierce scowl gave me all the information I needed; she’d be awake when I got home, looking for a very good explanation.

  I motioned Lilith to proceed me down the dark stairway. “Any word on Alice?” My words echoed in every direction off the square concrete walls.

  “She’s farming.”

  “Aye, thanks for the revelation; I had guessed that much.”

  When we got to the street, I told her to turn left. I needed some familiar territory, and the Golf Tavern would provide us with a certain cover of anonymity. I also didn’t want our meeting to be construed as anything romantic, hence the home ground. “Will this do?” I asked as we approached.

  “Nicely,” Lilith said as I opened the door for her, but even in the dim street light, her lipstick shone just a little too much, and her lips moist and somehow inviting. I even glimpsed her tongue as she said the simple word.

  Damn.

  Considering I’d been there so many times with Alice, slipping onto my chair next to Lilith felt quite strange. “So if this isn’t to announce Alice’s demise, what do I owe the pleasure?”

  She sipped her brandy softly, almost without touching the thick liquid. “Why, James, aren’t we the prickly one.”

  “No,” I said with far more confidence than I felt. “Just wondering why you surface now, you’ve been around here often enough. You could have called when Alice was in.”

  To my shock, she shimmied her chair nearer mine. “Do you want me to have an ulterior motive?”

  “No,” Again, I didn’t actually mean the word; fear was beginning to take hold. “I want you to get to the point.”

  “And so I shall, dear boy.” She sipped deeper this time, gasped at the draft, and I swear she licked her lips, looking right in my eyes. “Your handlers are out of their depth. We want you to jump ship. Come work for us.”

  Oh my God. I could not believe she’d said it. “And who is ‘us’, exactly?”

  She looked around, leaned closer still, then whispered. “Why, James, we’re Military Intelligence.” Her hand grasped my thigh, and I mean pretty high up too. She was definitely doing more than a recruiting drive.

  I stood, letting her hand fall free. “Do you want a game of darts?” I crossed to the empty board, switched on the spotlight. Lilith sat for a moment, cuddling her glass close to her mouth, smiling over its rim.

  I’d seen Gone With the Wind early last year, I knew a seductress’s look when I saw one.

  “No thanks,” Lilith leaned back on her chair, determined not to join me at the dart board. “I have something to give you.”

  “Oh, yes?”

  She slid a brown envelope onto the table. “It’s your first bonus.”

  That stymied me. I’d been broke for a few weeks, and Ivanhoe was never forward in giving out money, I actually had to ask for it.

  I threw the darts carefully into the board and counted the score; not quite Darts Team material, but not bad. Then my eyes turned back to Lilith, or rather the envelope on the table next to my pint. Drawn by curiosity, I walked back, sat down. “Do I have to count it?”

  She shook her head. “Three hundred pounds.”

  I know I tried not to show emotion, but I’m sure something cut through my reserve. Over three years wages in one little brown paper package.

  I sat for a moment, mulled the idea over, and decided on my course of action. I downed most of what was left in my pint in one, wiped my wet mouth with my sleeve, then stood up. I bent down, kissed her upturned forehead. “Sorry, Lady. Go find another sucker.”

  And with a wave to Dottie at the bar, I walked out.

  Right into the arms of a waiting Ivanhoe. “What the… ?”

  Balfour leaned on their car, cigarette in his mouth.

  I was so astonished, I didn’t appreciate Lilith arriving on the step, taking my arm, standing beside me. “He’s safe.” She handed the envelope to my boss.

  “Thanks, babe,” he grinned at me. “Yes, it was a test.”

  “On all fronts,” Lilith beamed as widely. “And you passed, with flying colors.”

  “And Alice?”

  Ivanhoe grinned. “Oh, she’s off ploughing fields, fixing fences, having a grand time.”

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  Ivanhoe could hardly keep the smile from his face. “Well, old boy, it seems you’ve been making a bit of a nuisance at the newspaper lately.”

  With the impending grin I could hardly take his comment seriously.

  Lilith’s upturned lips added to the coming news. “Yes
, your relationship with Leutnant Möller has gotten you both noticed. He’s been promoted, full Captain.”

  “So is he being transferred?”

  “No, old bean, you are.”

  I felt the foundations of my world shake a little.

  “You’re being promoted to full-time News Liaison.”

  Full-time meant no University, and I said so.

  “You’ll be taking a year out.”

  It sounded so matter-of-fact. Yet in my heart I held no rancor. In actuality, the whole arrangement sounded quite appealing; I was beginning to wonder why I attended classes at all.

  “Liaison?” The question needed an answer.

  “Yes, you’ll spend some time with young Captain Möller, in fact that’s why the news department got phones the other day. Tomorrow you’ll get one installed at home. The newspaper and Captain Möller need a faster way to communicate.”

  I knew mum would object. “We can’t afford a phone.”

  “You don’t have to; the newspaper’s footing the bill. It’s part of your new settlement.”

  “Settlement?”

  “Oh, didn’t we tell you?” Lilith leaned in for a kick on my cheek. “You get a wage rise. And so does Alice. If she ever comes back from the farm, she’ll be doing your old job. And we have a new editor too.”

  “Don’t tell me, she’s part of the cell in The Scotsman.”

  “That, dearie, is one thing you don’t get to know.”

  The icing on the cake? When I got back to the apartment that night, meeting mum head on was a breeze. I had good news topped with more. Phone, wage rise, the lot.

  A New Position in Life

  What I didn’t expect was a new office. One that was mine only. And my own name on the door.

  James Baird

  News Liaison Office

  Now, okay it was still on the top floor, and it wasn’t much bigger than my old bedroom in the apartment, but it was mine.

  Another boost was a part time influence in the Edinburgh Evening News, our little sister newspaper, but the initial adrenaline rush was countered by my first few days experience. I soon found out that I could delegate almost anything from the News, as its content was so parochial to be banal. Like I’d known all along, The Scotsman dealt with all the real news.

  Ten days after her sudden departure, Alice’s key slid into the apartment door. To say I was overjoyed would be a severe understatement. We’d just finished dinner, dishes washed and put away.

  “Hey, you,” her voice came from the dark hallway. She looked exhausted, her hair was a mess, and her skin now held a coppery glow; she’d been outside right enough.

  “Hello stranger,” I managed, although my heart was in my mouth. I was way too insecure about our ‘relationship’ not to let a ten day parting cause me problems.

  Our kiss was interrupted by mother coming into the hallway. “Alice! You’re back.”

  And that brought Frances out of her room.

  And that led to a cup of tea, Mum treating Alice like she’d been in a prison camp, and her digging sandwiches out of mid-air.

  Alice, for her part, coped well, and told stories until near nine o’clock. I guessed most of her tales had come from the farm at Carstairs, but some had a hint of home to them.

  “I spent most of the day on a tractor,” she said.

  Frances leaned close, elbows on the table, chin cradled in her hands, eyes wide open. “I want to work on a farm when I’m sixteen,” Normally Frances’ uncurbed enthusiasm would have been cute; today it just delayed my news.

  My worst fear? Alice had found someone else, and has just returned briefly to collect her clothes.

  Eventually mum called ‘bedtime’ at nine thirty, and ushered Frances out of the kitchen.

  I suggested a nightcap.

  “I could do with one,” Alice replied immediately. “Have you got money?”

  “How much do you need?”

  Her grin was enough to convince me any thoughts to her finding someone else were way exaggerated. “Enough for a hotel room?”

  “Sure,” I said, probably way too quickly.

  Mum arrived back in the kitchen.

  I was wondering how to broach the subject, but Alice had it all under control. “Now all I have to do is report in, and my little trip is over.”

  “Report in?” Mum took the bait like the dumbest trout.

  “Yes, sorry, I just have to get all the details down before I forget them.” She turned to me. “Can you drive me?” she asked.

  “No problem,” I said, rising in more ways than one.

  “We shouldn’t be that late, Mrs. Baird, but don’t wait up. Whatever happens, wake us both for breakfast same time as normal. We have to get back into the routine.”

  “That’s no bother,” Mum smiled, I walked down the hallway, and within minutes we were parked at the Links Hotel entrance. We hadn’t even driven a tenth of a mile.

  Until that moment, I had never fully understood the words ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’, but trust me, that evening we wallowed in its sentiments for hours.

  The next day we settled into our new positions at the newspaper.

  My phone rang three times. Once by the newly promoted Captain Möller, ‘just to confirm my number’. Once from Mister Donovan, the boss’s second in command to congratulate me in my new position, and once from a man who simply said; ‘Hot Buns are best. Tram 11, about six o’clock, last boozer’.

  “Aye,” I said back into the heavy receiver. “Okay.”

  The Fairmile Tavern was one point of contact Ivanhoe had used before, just before my Troon escapade if my memory didn’t fail me.

  I got off the tram at 5.51., walked back to the low building. I swear the same lady was behind the bar as before. “Pint of mild.” I said.

  I watched her pour, had my hand in my pocket ready to hand over my hard-earned cash, but she shook her head. “He’s in back.”

  Ivanhoe was sitting with an older man, hunched over a table. Only the man looked up as I entered. “Evening,” he said, somewhat puzzled.

  “Sit down,” Ivanhoe ordered, and I joined them. On the table were blurry arial photographs, I assumed of Carstairs, it seemed to be their priority. I looked at the pictures as he passed them to me.

  Square buildings, rectangular buildings, pathways. I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “I’m not sure what I’m looking at either.” Ivanhoe still did not look up. “Sandy here reckons most of the buildings are barracks of some description. The large square one…” he tapped two pictures. “He reckons it’s a furnace of some kind.”

  “So?” I had little else to say, not being as able to be committed as Sandy.

  “It’s a furnace,” Sandy said with confidence. He slid a photo across for my considered opinion. “But there’s no hoppers.”

  “Hoppers?” I asked. Ivanhoe shook his head. “Sandy says that’s wrong. There should be a fuel delivery system. That’s why you’re here, old boy.”

  “I wondered when that would surface.”

  “Well, we need to get closer pictures.” He looked up. “You’ve been there, driven through. Any ideas?”

  I shook my head. “What can we do? Send people to take pictures through the fence?”

  Ivanhoe shook his head in frustration. “If only it wasn’t so damned isolated.”

  An idea came to me. “Didn’t Alice get photographs for you?”

  His face was a picture. “What?”

  Alice.” I said, looking him straight in the eyes. “She’s just back from ten days farming right next to the compound.”

  His brows furrowed on his forehead. “Carstairs?”

  Oh God. He didn’t know, and I’d just put my foot in it. I immediately regretted my words, then reconsidered. No, Ivanhoe was my boss. “Yes, Carstairs. She’s been farming on land next door, observing. She must have photographs.”

  I could see Ivanhoe beginning to fume. When he roared, “Out!” I di
sappeared. I didn’t need further instruction; I walked out the room, out the pub, and caught the next tram back to civilization. Damn the whole Military Intelligence set-up, and their ridiculous inter-department secrecy.

  “Intelligence?” I muttered in the empty tram. “I’ve had shites wi’ more brains.”

  I didn’t say anything to Alice about my meeting with Ivanhoe, just swept it under the rug, hopefully not to be re-visited.

  Life flowed the next day. I now collated every main story by the newspaper, and took an expanded file to Möller, some for immediate insertion, and some for a later date. Life became more complex, my own filing system now having multiple ‘boxes, but I did get a far better overview. Having access to everyone’s work, gave me a sense of ‘seeing the whole picture’ that I hadn’t had before. I saw trends, connecting stories, witnessed longer arcs. I was slowly becoming the person ‘in the know’.

  In my spare time, I slowly built up a list of stories, and made connections.

  By the end of the week I had enough information to begin a dialogue with my Intelligence boss. I had Alice set up the message system in her office. Around four, a quiet knock aroused me from my perusals.

  “Yes? Come in.”

  A small face thrust itself into the door crack; cute, but dirty, maybe Frances’ age, maybe older. “Hot Bath,” she said, “Stay behind tonight. Work late.”

  “Okay.” I replied to an empty gap. I rose and crossed to the door, closed it softly, considered my already rumbling belly. I looked at my watch; quarter to four. Grabbing my coat, I stuck my head in Alice’s office. “I’m working late tonight. Off for something to eat. Do you want anything?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m okay. Look in on the way out when you get finished, I might still be here.” She gave me one of those sexy smiles. “I’ve got no other offers on the table.”